Broken Window


A dream it was,
Now cold it is,
The window speaks,
Drifts of icy stubbornness,
Steadfast at my door…

Of the other world,
Fresh and warm,
Bewitching the yonder song,
Attracts the smoldering pain,
To the doors open!

Inside she lay,
Raw and naked…

O that damned hand,
Red and clawing,
For it had seen blood,
Words hidden by flesh,
The bones,
Structures they create…

No love made,
Raped instead
Blood flowed,
And stretched eternally,
Empty until she lay,
Concealed in red, lifeless…

Perhaps, the blame,
Besides a mistake,
Naked she lay,
Shouldn’t had maybe,
But who broke the window?



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